Star Fox: Horizons
by Sir Raphael
Summary: A catastrophic accident sends Lylat into disarray.  With their best friends and allies now dead, Star Fox faces new challenges and it can no longer fly the flag of Lylat.  Outcasts and exiled far away, they must make a new life for themselves in space.
1. Rampant Amok

**Star Fox: Horizons**

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_Author's Note_: I present to you now the first episode of Star Fox: Horizons in the hope that you will find the story enjoyable. Horizons takes place on the Skies of Time timeline, after the events of Through Unheard Eyes, Defiance, and Black Skies. However, while it begins at a point after Black Skies, it does not continue on this timeline. Consider it an alternate universe, an offshoot of the main timeline. Thank you to my fans for helping me get to this point. I dedicate this piece of work to foxbird22 and Ice Fox 111 in the hopes that the Database Three project will continue to prosper. Thanks, you two.

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**Episode 1 Rampant Amok**

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Ahead through almost crystal-clear glass lay Solar, the celestial presence that had dominated the skies above Corneria for millennia. Even after all that time, it was much the same now as it had been then, a flaming globe of raw energy that was the very lifeblood of Lylat. It was a symbol of inexhaustible energy, of hope, cheer, and comfort. It was the guiding force of Lylat, which could give life to a planet, but take it away just as rapidly. Such had been the fate of Fichina, knocked from its orbit by an immense solar flare and doomed to die an icy death. The bones and frozen remains of the planet's original inhabitants were testament to that sad fact. 

Yet today, Solar was a benevolent star, one that had hung bright in the viewpane since Beltino Toad had taken off in his cruiser that morning. He had woken up early that morning as the first golden rays of dawn and spilt into his room. As was his custom, Beltino had sat still in his bed for some time while his mind slowly shifted into wakefulness as he watched the sunlight slowly pan across the room, saturating the air with a rich, honeyed hue of gold.

He had passed by the old bedroom of his son, who was off with Star Fox conducting a diplomatic mission to Venom. Beltino's eyelid quirked ever so slightly at this- his son would never have considered taking a diplomatic career just ten years ago. Now, after battling through three wars, each of them a bitter, draining conflict spanning many months, Slippy had come to appreciate quiet and serenity. With Star Fox's reputation, they now worked as jacks-of-all-trades. As mercenaries, as diplomats, even as scientists. Most of the team had taken jobs at Arspace, as test pilots and concept scientists. Yet they all still retained their restless nature ingrained into them by the life of a mercenary, and more often than not, none of them would check into Arspace Headquarters.

Now, as his personal cruiser, Hopalong, rose through the skies, Beltino found himself reminiscing about years not long ago. Much had changed in the seven years since the Treaty of Lence was signed, ending the Grallian War- Fox and Krystal, along with Falco and Abbey, had married, and while neither couple had had children just yet, Beltino knew there would be some on the way soon enough.

Ahead of his sleek cruiser, which somewhat resembled an elongated Wolfen hull with two large engine pods mounted to either side, the skies began to deepen and darken, fading swiftly from the rosy hues of morning, to a cool cyan, to a dancing azure, and finally to the deepest hues of sapphire. At last, even this fell away to be replaced with the black emptiness of space.

Not that that wasn't of beauty either- Beltino looked around him and could appreciate, for the thousandth time, the wonderful, splendid array of the stars around Lylat, winking orbs of distant light that seemed to shimmer and pulse with a life of their own. A spray of white on a stellar scale, a work of art painted upon the cosmos.

An ethereal wisp of red flickered out from the surface of Solar, drawing Beltino's attention back ahead of him. His viewpane darkened, becoming indistinguishable against the void as a computer analyzed the intensity of Solar's brilliance and tinted the viewpane accordingly. Beltino's eyes slid from Solar, now erupting in tiny flares of orange and yellow, and to the cool, silver length of the Orbital Gate.

The station was freshly polished after a rogue comet had given it a good coating of dust and debris before it could be vaporized by the new Helios Laser, and the effects were dazzling. The gate refracted and reflected hues of light all over the spectrum, rainbow fire seeming to trace along its lines as the light of Solar enveloped it in its embrace. The spectacle was drowned out within a few moments once the viewpane adjusted again, but for that instant, Beltino had seen another masterpiece of the infinite.

* * *

The Hopalong came to rest with a smooth bump, landing gear scraping for a fraction of a second along the steel deck before it latched on with a dull clang. The canopy split into four pieces, both sides retracting downwards into the cruiser's sides, the front sliding in ahead of him and the ceiling rolling back into the panel behind him. A panel in the siding descended downwards, and Beltino, almost nimbly, hopped from his eat and to the deck. 

The toad was almost whistling as he checked himself into his lab, going to work with more zeal then he had mustered these past few days.

For he was conducting not the research of peace that he loved, but development on another powerful weapon for Corneria's armed services. A new ship-mounted weapon that could level the odds between Cornerian and Grallian weaponry.

But Slippy was coming home today, and that cheered up the older Toad greatly. His eyes wandered down the long firing range his lab adjoined, and he turned back to his work with a small chuckle, paws deftly moving spare parts off his work surface as he rang for his assistants to haul in the prototype.

* * *

Some distance away, plying the silent sea of space, was the sleek, streamlined profile of the famed mercenary dreadnought, the Great Fox. Although its warp drive was, at the moment, being plagued by fluctuations that would drop the ship in and out of warp at irregular intervals, aside from these fleeting distractions, the mercenaries were pleased with another job well done. 

Perhaps, mused Fox, not all of us. He reclined back into his command chair, a well-padded affair of the softest fabrics, the strongest steel, and a simple computer interface on both armrests. The vulpine's eyes flicked out, watching as Slippy began to slam his fists into a control panel in frustration.

"Something bothering you, Slippy?" he asked, his voice lazy. Slippy rolled his eyes at the wall before turning back to Fox, throwing his webbed paws into the air.

"Of course there is!" he fumed. "Stupid warp drive. Keeps ditching us every few minutes or so. And I can't find the problem!" Fox quirked an eyebrow.

"I thought you knew these engines inside and out?"

"We got repairs at Kelton Station, not too long ago," reminded Abbey, swiveling around in her chair and looking up at Fox. "They gave us a new drive, remember?"

"And you never gave me the time to pull it apart," finished Slippy, glaring at the truculent fox, who gave a shrug.

"As soon as we get back from this mission, then you can tinker all you want," replied Fox, attempting to placate his rather unpredictable friend.

Not impressed, Slippy gave a dismissive "Yeah, yeah," turning back to his work as he did so.

Fox was suddenly and inexplicably reminded of Sauria.

* * *

"Alright boys," said Beltino, clapping his paws together, "let's do this. Set up the target!" 

"Target set!" called Jeremy, a mongoose and one of Beltino's closest friends.

"Balto, the diagnostics?"

"All good!" replied the black dog, looking up from his console. "Antimatter stream is stable, ready for firing!"

"All set then? Well, ahem, let's give it a shot!" Groans sounded around the room at this bad, and thoroughly unintended pun as the toad waddled up to the cannon, primed it, then stepped behind a blast shield.

"Fire!" he called, and the lab shook to the rising roar of gunfire and the sudden rush of flames. A scarlet-glowing round had been expelled from the cannon's maw, accelerating with a scream and a thunderclap as it breached the sound barrier. Crashing into the solid, duraluminum block, it exploded, antimatter reacting to the contact with a burst of raw energy.

Beltino raced out from behind the shield. A blackened hole had been blasted into the block, which looked as if a volcano had raised a fist and slammed it repeatedly with the burning rock from its core.

Beltino made an absent nod to another assistant. There was now a loud whirring as smoke was sucked from the room by powerful ventillation fans. The hum of machinery followed as a type-three plasma streaming cannon was lowered from the ceiling, along with a plasma cannon of the type used on the Great Fox. To complete the control group, a scavenged Mark IV Arwing's pearl laser was mounted up on a platform upon the floor. More blocks of duraluminum were trundled, in.

A signal was given, and a crashing, rolling knell rebrevated through the room, forcing many of th escientists to cover sensitive ears with their paws. When the last echo of th edetonation rumbled away and faded, Beltino walked out from behind the blast shield to observe the effects.

The streaming cannon had bored a cone-shaped hole into its block, which ran in deep but was not wide at the mouth. Smoke wisped up from the damaged metal.

The plasma cannon had simply punched a charred, scorched crater in the duraluminum, which, although not impressively deep, was widespread. Not an inch of the plating was not blackened by the intense heat of the plasma.

The pearl laser had scorched away a clean aperture in the metal, not deep nor wide, but with the gun's yield well under that of the other two, it was impressive nevertheless.

Beltino studied the damage for a few more seconds, then snapped his fingers. An assistant came up to his side.

"Get me General Pepper," he informed the aide. "I believe we've done what he asked us to do."

Cheers erupted through the room. Everyone had had enough of explosions to last them a year.

* * *

"We're about to enter Cornerian airspace," said Abbey, paws running over her controls. "Dropping from warp." The Great Fox shuddered briefly, as if passing through rapidly congealing watter, before it settled, banking in towards Corneria. A glint of light reflected off the Orbital Gate. 

Slippy's face was suddenly creased in a frown. A pudgy finger tapped a button, bringing a diagnostic up on the screen. His eyebrows knitted.

"We're having a power fluctuation," he reported, watching a waving line dance on his screen. "It looks like auxillary power core three..." A second passed as new data entered the screen. Slippy suddenly shrieked.

"It's going critical!" Fox leapt from his chair pushing himself up to his full height.

"Eject it!" yelled the Fox, panic entering his voice. Slippy's fingers scrabbled all over his control board as Abbey rushed over to help.

Fox only wished the rest of his team were on the bridge right now.

* * *

On the port quarter of the Great Fox, a cylindrical object, nestled deep in a protective sheath, sparked, a rising scream ripping from its depths. Blue fire raced along power conduits, explosions tearing through hull plating and fires springing up to consume the wiring like some hungry beast. 

Around the base of the power core, a ring of small charges detonated, severing the canister's connection to the structural girders and shooting the power core along a short tube. At the space-side aperture, two panels shot open with great speed as the failing power core was jettisoned upon a plume of flame into the void.

The core drifted in silence as the Great Fox roared away, sparks and blue fire running down its sides and flaring into space. Flashing, squarish indicator lights and crystal panels began to blow out, unleashing great quantities of vapor, flame, and electricity to rush from the opening and out into space.

White light spiked from blown panels, fading suddenly as a brilliant, fuchsia sphere enveloped the power core as it imploded. The spherical shockwave raced out, easily outdistancing the residual debris that was flung away from the ruined core.

The Great Fox's engines flickered and died, leaving the ship listing and tumbling out of control, its great mass plowing on through space and very nearly slamming into an unwary transport leaving orbit. The fuchsia shockwave went crashing into the transport as well. Its lights dimmed, flickered, and failed.

The Orbital Gate did not shake in the slightest as the wave ran over its length. For an instant, the station appeared untouched. Then it began to shudder and come apart as explosions tore through its armored plating, ripping chunks of metal from the station's surface and flinging it out into space.

* * *

As the lights dimmed, an explosive rumbling shook the ground beneath Beltino's feet. He realized what was happening almost immediately, and he lurched over the rapidly turning ground, paw stretching for the antimatter vent controls. 

He never got there. Somewhere, many feet below the toad, a molecule of antimatter collided with the duraluminum of the station and exploded with brutal force. The lab above was incinerated instantly, the floor thrown into the ceiling as it cracked apart, flames licking up from the fractures to consume its victims.

The Orbital Gate broke apart, its great ring cracking and crumbling to pieces from within. Fire streamed out from hangars, casting charred hulks of fighters and cruisers out from their resting places, bearing them upon a tidal wave of crimson. The great, rumbling explosions of antimatter reactions drove the flaming wreck ever downwards, and it disappeared from sight in a blazing fireball as it fell into the atmosphere.

* * *

Corneria City was directly under the Orbital Gate when the ravaged station began its freefall. Fiery wings formed by broken debris slammed into Corneria Proper, obliterating the capital building and much of the business fronts, killing countless thousands. 

The body of the station plummeted onto Army Headquarters. General Pepper was in his office, reading a report out loud to James McCloud and his team when the ceiling caved in, burying the foursome in a veritable rainstorm of metal fragments and corpses from levels above.

* * *

Power flickered back into the Great Fox, computers rebooting with chirps and whirs that completely defied the gravity of the situation. Fox took one look at Corneria City, far below. Even from this distance, the lurid, flaming wreckage of much of downtown Corneria was visible, and black, tarry smoke was already blanketing the region. 

A whining tone sounded from Abbey's console. The otter hit the comm button.

The captain of the transport the Great Fox had nearly rammed took one look at the vulpine's stunned face and started to shout.

"What the hell have you done, McCloud!?"


	2. Broken Word

**Star Fox: Horizons**

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_Author's Note_: My, we left off on an interesting note there, didn't we? Thanks to you all for your kind reviews!

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**Last time on Horizons...

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**"Hey, Beltino!" called a young lupine, grey-furred and well-dressed. "The Great Fox's here!" 

"Wonderful news!" replied Beltino, adjusting his glasses as his features were consumed by a beaming smile. "I'll be-be on my way!" He turned back to his fellow scientists and gave a nod. "You keep testing here," he began, giving a nod to the group as a whole before turning to Balto. "Try not to set anything on fire?"

Balto gave a crisp salute. "Aye aye, sir!" he responded, voice laced with mock-severity. Beltino gave a chuckle, then began to head for the doors.

* * *

Within the depths of the Great Fox, well beneath the armored hull and the weapons that bristled from it, a network of conduits stretched across the ship, humming with electricity as power raced through their circuitry. Within engineering, the energy would race through transformers and arc in brilliant strokes of blue lightning within the three great engines, sparking to life an ion flame, kindled from a sphere of ionized energy that flickered with a blinding, bloody light. The scarlet would be blasted away by hues of violet and azure, the cool ion flames roaring from the engine chamber with the force of thousands of watts wants of energy. 

Inside the very bowels of the ship, a towering structure loomed large within main engineering, set forward from the three, cylindrical engine chambers that protruded partially into the great room, standing almost five decks high, nearly half the ship's height. Within this imposing pillar swirled the dancing swirls of light and sparks that denoted an antimatter reaction, particles of every kind colliding with one another to annihilate themselves in a burst of fiery splendor and a surge of pure energy. Yet the power core was walled only by a layer of tempered glass, several inches thick, and a magnetic field projected into the core by emitters strung on the structure's supporting rings.

Scattered through the vessel were twelve auxiliary power cores, nondescript cylinders of burnished steel perhaps a deck high, placed at diagonals to the ship's decks. These were cast of burnished duraluminum, unremarkable perhaps but for the glowing crystal indicators studded at various places along their lengths. A wave of light ran through the crystals at regular intervals, lighting first the bottom gem, then progressing to the next in line. Each of these power cores, highly efficient, combined fusion and fission reactors, were encased in rooms that were miniature versions of main engineering, with one subtle difference- these rooms were spotted here and there with large, silvery nodes that hummed with power and projected faint trails of gold into crystals on the core. The air itself throbbed and pulsed to the steady rhythm that was projected by the crystal indicators, these sending pulses of energy through the air, wirelessly transmitting this vital lifeblood of the Great Fox to conduits, whereupon it was received and transferred to critical systems onboard- life support, the engines, the weapons, as well as every other electrical system on the ship.

The intrusion began unobtrusively- a faltering in the pattern of lights running up the core's side. Within seconds, however, the pattern began to collapse. Crystal lamps began to flare at random as the failing reactor began to send spikes of energy out in every direction, the fusion reactions slowing and giving way to the more destructive ones of nuclear fission. As the atomic fuel of the Great Fox began to break apart at a fantastic rate, the core, in its death throes, began to emit a whining scream. Receiving nodes began to explode in showers of sparks, waterfalls of molten gold falling to the steel deck and fading away in bright spots of red which died in an instant. The entire ship began to rumble as this power core, Auxiliary Three spun out of control. The surface began to glow red hot as the reactions began to dissolve into a runaway chain reaction. The chamber rocked as vents in the wall exploded to spray liquid nitrogen onto the core's surface, the substance instantly phasing from liquid to gas in the space of a nanosecond.

* * *

On deck, Slippy's webbed paws ran over his console. A string of code was initiated, and this raced through the ship's computer mainframe like a bolt of lightning to a rod. In under three seconds, it reached Auxiliary Three. Panels slid shut around the reactor, never faltering even as nitrogen gas broke upon nit like waves upon stone. The room was filled with a throaty roar as pyrotechnic charges around the base of the core exploded, hurling the core from the ship, through a polished shaft. Two half-circle doors shot open, and the cylindrical canister of duraluminum was ejected into space. 

It hung for a moment as flames jetted from the shaft's mouth, spinning off almost twenty feet into space before dying. The core sparked and flashed, fires of its own ripping through breaking crystal and even the reactor walls. Pale light exploded forth from the rapidly growing fractures in the casing, and these brilliant rays of light were almost as bright as Solar for an instant. The core then imploded, crumpling in upon itself. The atomic fuel reached critical mass-

-and exploded in a sphere of crackling fuchsia energy, the shockwave rippling out through space faster than any starship in Lylat could hope to flee at. The first to be struck by the electro-magnetic shockwave was the Great Fox, which lost helm control and engines immediately, the great battlecruiser tumbling through space, blue arcs of lightning playing over its hull plating as the armor depolarized.

A planetary transport bucked as it was hit, turning into the wave and slicing through it. The unpowered hulk rolled by the Great Fox, missing it by barely a few feet.

The lights on the Orbital Gate began to go out, quenched by the shockwave that rammed and rolled its way over the station, leaving dead metal in its wake.

A docking node destabilized and exploded, its delicate crystal matrix unable to take the stress of power loss. The other two nodes reeled, spinning away from their former positions.

The station began to shake and shudder to a far more dynamic roar. Beltino was about to cross over the threshold of the room when the deck began to come apart beneath his feet. The toad rushed for a switch, desperation on his face.

A gout of flame ripped up through the floor and licked the room clean of the lives of all present. They were all gone, charred to ashes, never to see their families again.

* * *

**Episode 2 Broken Word **

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Fires smoldered in what had been the jewel of Lylat. Beautiful Corneria City had been reduced to so much ash and twisted metal by the falling of the Orbital Gate, much of the city having been leveled in the impact, many others having fallen from subsequent explosions. Those fortunate enough to survive either cowered within their homes, or were on the streets, praying to the Creator to protect them. 

With General Pepper dead and the military in shambles, the people looked to their natural protector- Fox McCloud of Star Fox. It did not take long, however, before a transport landed upon one of the remaining docking ports, and the captain rushed from his ship, making a run directly for the news bureau.

When the Great Fox touched ground, Fox could see the captain sprinting from the spaceport. Knowing all too well what would happen, the vulpine left the bridge in such a hurry that the rest of his teammates were left staring at a closed lift door.

Exiting the ship, Fox broke into a flat run, beginning to overtake the transport captain almost immediately. But he had too much a head start, and the captain had slipped into the headquarters of the Cornerian Daily before Fox could reach him.

Inside was a crowded mass of journalists, milling about and receiving work details when the dishelved raccoon burst in, drawing many heads. The captain raished his arms and shrieked, "It was McCloud! He did it!"

Fox burst in through the sliding glass doors throwing one open with the force of his shoulder. The raccoon heard his entry and turned, pointing one quavering paw. "It's him!"

Almost immediately, the reporters began to press in on Fox, rushing him, surrounding him as the captain went on. "His ship- the Great Fox, I swear- it discharged a canister, knocked my ship out, blew up the Gate!"

"You've got it all wrong!" bellowed Fox. "That was an auxiliary power core! We had no choice but to jettison it!" When the raccoon opened his maw, Fox cut him off, continuing his raging protest against this travesty. "If you were suggesting I had any way of knowing what would happen, you're mad! My crew and I had nothing to do with this explosion! You might as well then call the man who fires the cannon a murderer, the pilot who flies to protect you a cutthroat!"

Things had come to a head so quickly after that, Fox could barely recollect what had happened later. His team had rushed in, Slippy with a data cartridge, but while they had proved over and over again that there had been no other alternative but to eject the core, the next day saw fantastic headlines emblazoned across the tops of the electronic papers, data pads that updated themselves at the latest news. But this time, the data broadcast was sent to all units, even those that had expired their subscription.

* * *

**FOX MCCLOUD- KILLER OR SAVIOR?**

3:00 PM, Corneria City: A scene of complete and utter devestation today stole away the peaceful wonder of downtown Corneria. Thousands are dead, treble that number are homeless. The city proper has been annihilated, and much of the local infrastructure has collapsed. The Cornerian Senate was in session today- all were killed when the Capitol Building itself was struck by the falling remains of the Orbital Gate.

I can think of but one fur to point at, the man behind this tragedy- wartime hero Fox McCloud. Many look upon him as the white angel, the perfect man who holds his friends close in peace or war. But the damage he has caused over the past two decades is clear- in the first Lylar War, McCloud often missed Venomian fighters, striking instead the few buildings still standing in Corneria City. These stray lasers killed hundreds over the course of the war, yet the late General Pepper let him off with no reprisals.

McCloud was also responsible for the death of thousands of SharpClaw on Sauria. Yet when push came to shove, the aparoid attack on Corneria, where was our illustrious Star Fox? Fighting with the gallant Cornerian Starfleet, who fought a losing battle and laid life and limb down for their countrymen? No, they were not! They chose instead to save a backward species, the pitiful dinosaurs of Sauria who have yet to mount even a single interstellar expedition, or even civilize their own planet! Truly, Fox cares about his countrymen!

The course is clear, my fellow Cornerians. We must rid ourselves of him, before he can cause any more harm to our home planet! Listed here are some cries of anguish among our people, buried in the waves of pro-Star Fox propaganda!

"We'd hid in a building," remembers Natasha Harris, 81, "from the Venomians. My children and grandchildren were with me, my oldest son had a scavenged rifle and he stood at the door, ready to lay himself down for all of us. It looked as if we were safe, as if the Army would pass us by, but here comes that ragtag group of furs calling themselves Star Fox! James McCloud must've rolled in his grave after this day, for McCloud himself put rounds into the building without ever thinking of those inside! My entire family was killed by this menace!"

"My mother," begins Diane Clark, 14, "told me over and over again- Star Fox will come. They will drive them off, hold them at bay. They have always done this. She said this to the last, even as the house was burning around her. McCloud came long after my mother had perished! He cares nothing for us!"

"Negligence causes death in war!" exclaimed an angry Vincent Badger, veteran of the Grallian War. "Three o' my best mates were killed when that McCloud got careless and shot the Goliath- blew out power relays across three decks, he did!"

Remember those lost by McCloud's actions. Do the right thing for Lylat. He may claim his innocence, but don't be fooled! Fox McCloud had everything to do with the tragedy yesterday, and if he cared as much as he claimed, he would have not ejected that power core and suffered the damage himself!

-Daniel Berinial, Corneria Daily

* * *

**THE DARK ANGEL: FOX MCCLOUD**

"No longer can we rely on Fox McCloud to protect us!" declared an unnamed military official yesterday. "Every engagement the mercenary team has engaged in has come at the expense of our armed forces- their morale is crippled when their victories are covered up by their so-called glamour, and Star Fox never comes to our aid before a portion of our fleet has been taken apart. We must stand for ourselves, now! LIVES DO NOT MATTER TO MR. MCCLOUD!"

Clearly, it is time for Corneria to move on. Fox now must take a new place in the world, and it must be one where we must not live in fear of crossfire!

-Michael Ranital, Morning Herald

* * *

**CLEAR THE SKIES: THE CALL TO DISARM**

The latest catastrophe in the tragedy pageant Lylat has become illustrates again the need to disarm! Each and every military operation has only cost the average citizen more and more- first our money, then ourselves, then even our children! Mercenary groups like Star Fox must be abolished before they do more damage on our society!

-Baros Wolin, Wearing the Uniform

* * *

**VULTUREs OR VULPINES?**

We here at the Solar Daily renounce the incredible actions taken by other media bureaus, which disgusts us to the core of our beings.

Our establishment was here, two decades ago, when Andross first invaded the Lylat System. Our reporters suffered just as much as the average citizen, often, far more so. We never forget who brought around V-L day, the day when we could come forth from our homes or haunts without fear of death or personal injury!

Our reporters are intelligent men, many scientists. We were one of the first news departments to learn that the death of Sauria could have killed us all! And here now is the Corneria Daily, which is about as unethical as a paper can get! We encourage our readers to refute any statements that rag dares publish.

We, in our selfishness, overlook the most basic fact about Star Fox- that they number only six. Our own armed forces constitute more than ten thousand brave furs, whose duty is to serve and protect. But they are ten thousand to six- Star Fox cannot be everywhere!

Those who support the exile of Star Fox are sick, twisted men. You ignore the unspeakable horrors and drains that that mercenary team has gone through- for all of us, you and me. They've very nearly lost one another a number of times, fought without stop for months, always on the move with no chance of rest! We here at Solar Daily would challenge our readers to do anything like what this gallant team has done for Lylat, without once demanding their pay. Of course, as mercenaries, they are paid, but so is the average serviceman! In fact, before he went missing, Captain Richard Alanaldo made so much money through his talents that he could have funded most of Star Fox's missions himself.

We mourn the loss of Pepper, President-Supreme Harold, and those men of the Senate just as much as you do, but we encourage you not to let grief blind you to the truth! If we cannot trust our own leaders, who trusted Star Fox, then there is no one alive in this system we can trust.

–Jeremy Hickens, Solar Daily

* * *

Days passed. The papers continued to bicker and fight. A mob assailed the headquarters of the Corneria Daily, but an even larger one very nearly burnt down those of the Solar Daily. Almost maddened by grief, the public demanded Star Fox be evicted immediately from Lylat. 

Heartbroken by this course of events, Fox himself delivered a personal speech of thanks to the remaining reporters of the Solar Daily. He then went to the consulates of Grall and Eloria, seeking asylum, but none was given. Grall, now a staunch ally of Lylat, refused on the grounds that their government, servant to the wish of the people, could not in good conscious grant him asylum.

The story was similar in Eloria. Although Star Fox had widespread public support, the government, with no form of defense against Grall should it invade once more, had no choice but to bend to the wishes of Lylat and Grall.

* * *

A week passed in a blur. Every day, protestors gathered around the interned Great Fox, hurling stones and all manner of other things that came to paw. A trial came and went, and in Fox's numbed mind, no part was ever clearer than the moment the judge's hammer came down like a death knell, accompanying her cold words promising exile to Fox McCloud, who had ordered the power core jettisoned. 

The rest of Star Fox was not penalized, only Fox. But knowing their reputations were forever blackened, they chose to side with their steadfast leader. Fox appreciated them for that.

* * *

They stood together now, upon the bridge of the Great Fox. So many things, good and bad, had begun and ended upon this bridge, on this gallant starship that had plyed the starry skies of space for so long in the name of Corneria. 

The vulpine's face, whitened by strain, stared out ahead of him. Krystal grasped his paw tightly with hers, but the fox seemed to take no notice but the structure before them.

It was a large, scarlet ring of burnished metal, with a rectangular set of compartments on one side that acted as a control station. This ring was a prototype Orbital Gate, designed to send Corneria's warships further and faster than they could ever have gone before. Now, however, it was being broken in with anguish, instead of the pride that was due to it and its founder.

The closing of a lift door told him that the silent Cornerian technician had finished wiping the navigational computer of the Great Fox of all information. The ship lurched slightly as a shuttle disengaged from a docking port and flew into a waiting shuttlebay on the lower front of the control station.

A single, crisp order crackled over the comm. "Star Fox. Proceed as per your orders.."

Tears splashed onto a pilot console as Abbey reached a paw out and grasped a set of switches, flicking them off one after the other. Each flip sent a soft, but distinct crack that seemed to echo around the room.

The engines of the Great Fox flickered and died.

Hazy beams of blue locked onto the Great Fox as tractor beams began to pull it forward. The situation finally becoming too much for him, Fox broke down and fell into his chair, sobbing into his forearm. Krystal dropped to one knee, trying to comfort her mate.

The Beltino Orbital Gate activated, a lilac swirl appearing within the center of its great ring. The spiral began to gain size and intensity, growing ever brighter until it touched the edge of the gate's ring, now a great, luminous disc of pale violet that swirled with a life of its own.

The tractor beams cut off, leaving the Great Fox to drift forward upon its inertia. The gate grew ever larger in the viewpanes, looming large until at last, the Great Fox was grabbed by an invisible force and hurled forwards, lost to sight. An energy pulse from the control station collapsed the gate, and all was silent once more over Corneria.

* * *

The Great Fox was in the corridor for several hours when the entire assembly collapsed and spat the Great Fox out, into a region of desolate, empty space. Fox chocked back a final sob, and speaking thickly through his arm, he croaked, "Can you see Lylat? Anything?" 

"Nothing," said Slippy, voice almost gone from the torment the amphibian had gone through these last few days. To go with Fox, he could not even take the time to witness his father's funeral. He swiped an arm across his watering eyes, trying to stay strong. Fox needed him. Everyone needed each other now.

They were on their own.


	3. Lifeblood

**Star Fox: Horizons**

* * *

_Author's Note_: Well, I originally had this done several weeks ago, but the last chapter was so bad with a plot that reeked of melodrama. So, in any case, here is the revised and hopefully better chapter. It would really stink if I released the original copy- it's not even on my hard drive anymore. 

...hah.

* * *

**Last Time on Horizons...**

* * *

A raging mob swept across a plaza, running like a tide of angry faces and laser weapons. Energy bolts blazed through the air in arcs of multicolored fire, scorching blackened craters in a building façade. Cornerian policemen stood off to one side, riot shields hanging loose. Many glared with burning fury at the building that even now was being attacked before their eyes. A pro-Star Fox news agency. After all the so-called heroes had 'done' for Lylat. 

A polished stone gavel hit a disc of bronze with a shattering impact, the crack echoing through a deadly silent courtroom. An old judge, anger and spite blazing in her beady eyes, pronounced an eternal exile as punishment for Fox McCloud's crimes.

A battle-damaged Great Fox stood awkwardly before the Beltino Orbital Gate, the late toad's last legacy and gift to the world. Crackling strands of azure energy raced around a loop of red duraluminum, smashing together to open a swirling portal. Sky-blue tractor beams grabbed ahold of the Great Fox, and swept the forlorn battle cruiser into their midst.

Within seconds, it was gone.

* * *

**Episode 3 Lifeblood **

* * *

Two days had passed since the banishment. The Great Fox drifted through space, with two of her powerful engines silent and her G-Diffuser rings dimmed. The ship's central engine burned with a weak ion flame, which almost seemed to trickle out of the engine port, too weak to do anything more than nudge the ship forwards. 

Within the implacable walls of duraluminum, the ship was in varying states of abandon and dereliction. Only every fifth light was lit in the hallways, casting shadows which danced and wavered, even when nothing stirred. The towering antimatter core in main engineering was silent. Plasma pumps lent not their humming voices, except for a select few that fed into the central engine.

Voices drifted from one staff lounge, the door shut and light peeping through cracks around the portal's edge.

* * *

Krystal McCloud stood alone on the bridge, sitting in her mate's chair. She swiveled in it aimlessly, aloof to the squeaking noises that were coming from the swivel. The bridge, usually vibrant with activity and awash with the soft glows of computers, was still but for the low tone of a velocity tracker.

* * *

Century Shorehm stood in the launch bay, much of which was lost in darkness. Rare gleams of artificial light reflected off silvery Arwing hulls, casting spectral panes of rebounding radiance on the walls. The hound stared out at space, at the stars visible through the hangar entrance. The forcefield flickered, and the black dog wordlessly tapped a pair of keys on the console beside him. He turned and left the chamber as two sets of blast doors slid shut across the hangar maw, shutting it off from the world

* * *

Fox McCloud was alone in his quarters. A mostly incomplete star chart was scrolling across a computer screen. Countless pieces of Cornerian literature were on the next. 

All around the room were piles of broken glass and dreams, photographs of Lylat and all he had stood for. Lylat did not need him, want him, anymore. He had nothing left to live for.

The vulpine stared out at passing stars with sightless eyes. He thought back on his father, and his grandfather before that. For generations, ever since the days of the Great Convention, his family had upheld the highest honors, protecting the common people with their swords- and more often, their lives. Even in the long-gone days of Redwall, his house had not been the warmongering foxes that others were so keen to think them as. They were sharp, intelligent, recorders of the natural arts and phenomena. Even then, were the law was weak, they were strong.

No longer. He had laid waste centuries of work, carried out by men and women far greater than he. Fox gave the slightest of shrugs, ruffling his fur in fatalistic gloom. Even the ship seemed dead to him. To save precious antimatter and plasma, they were running on one sublight engine. No more, no less. Not a one took regular meals anymore, and all took their food apart.

Fox never had to worry about numbers anymore. His life had been so simple then, in the days of the Lylat War. Fly, shoot, survive, and come home. Now, with his team and his ship around him, greater than they had ever been, all he could think of was how many tons of antimatter, how many liters of plasma were being burned to feed the ship's energy-intensive activities.

He was jarred from his moment of reflection by a harsh, intrusive noise. Looking around for the source, Fox found it was nothing but the comm. He had not heard it in so long, it had become almost alien to him.

The vulpine jammed the button with his thumb, and a line opened to the bridge. Krystal gave a long sigh, something that caused Fox's fur to stand on end. Before he could ask, the vixen gave a soft whimper.

"Fox...I think you should come take a look at this." The channel closed. Confused and concerned, the vulpine reached for his door controls and stepped out into a darkened hallway.

* * *

"He's moving," announced Abbey, breaking a moment of awkward silence that had fallen upon the little group. Falco uncrossed his arms, sitting up. 

"Where to?" he asked, turning a monitor towards him. Abbey gave a shrug.

"The bridge, that's my guess."

"Isn't Krystal there, too?" queried Slippy, turning the monitor to face him. After a moment, he gave a tired blink and rubbed his eyes. "Yup."

"Let's have a look-see, then," said Century, standing up and stretching sore muscles. "I daresay we could all use a walk right now."

There was a low, slightly reluctant chorus of agreement, and in single file, the lot of them trooped out into the frigid, barren hallways of the Great Fox.

* * *

The two parties met up at the lift to the bridge. Fox did not question why they were here, only gave an understanding nod and called for the elevator car. The doors slid open on command, and the group stepped in. They were surrounded for a moment by the whirring of hydraulics, then there was another hiss as the doors opened. 

Krystal stood, framed as a darkened outline against the viewpanes. As Fox stepped out, she turned around to face him, eyes grim.

"Krystal, wha-" he began, before the vixen stepped sideways and into a patch of starlight. The soft radiance touched her features briefly before she passed back into shadow, leaving the group's sole attention on the horrific sight before them.

There, drifting dead in space, with weapon burns and hull breaches covering its surface, was the broken and battered hulk of the Cornerian Wolf.

* * *

An hour later, there was no doubt about it. Corneria had chosen to get rid of Star Wolf as well. The navigational logs were wiped clean, and Wolf's log was unusually flat and dreary, even for the uptight commander. Fox almost let himself assume that Corneria was now the enemy, that they had senselessly murdered his friend. He was unsure whether or not to be relieved when Slippy confirmed that the weapon signatures burned into the hull were not Cornerian. 

"There're no Wolfens in the launch bays, though," offered Century, a soft not eof hope in his voice. "Perhaps they escaped?"

Fox shook his head. He was not inclined to hope in anything at the moment. He gestured wordlessly at the gloom around them before speaking. "Strip the ship. Take anything useful- antimatter, plasma, tools, guns, anything. Then get back to the ship."

The order was followed without question, though more than one of Star Fox shed a bitter tear for the loss of friends. Another half hour later, and a docking port retracted from the Great Fox, vanishing into the Great Fox. Hull plating slid over it and polarized with a dull ripple of blue.

* * *

Fox went immediately to the bridge, and took the flight yoke in his paws. Thrusters fired fore and aft, sending white jets of particle gas into space. The Great Fox began to rotate until the Cornerian Wolf was directly before it. 

The four retro-rockets fired with a tremendous roar, sending ionic flames cascading down the ship's flanks. Still coasting backwards, Fox closed his eyes, reached out with his left paw, and input a series of commands.

Plasma raced through opening locks and about the ship until it blasted from twin gun apertures in a concentrated, continuous beam of golden red energy. The plasma beam flared on impact, beating down onto the Cornerian Wolf for almost thirty seconds.

The rest of the team arrived on the bridge just in time to see the hulk of the Cornerian Wolf break apart and explode in a fantastic detonation, broken and battered armor and components flying everywhere. Fox only hoped there wasn't a body amidst the mess.

In the silence that followed, Krystal spoke three words, chosen carefully and laden with the most respect she had ever mustered.

"Goodbye, Star Wolf."


End file.
